


Running Away With Me

by whatabeautifulmess



Category: Glee
Genre: Barebacking, Kink Meme, M/M, Rough Sex, Strength Kink, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabeautifulmess/pseuds/whatabeautifulmess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for prompt on the GKM. Kurt goes to the gym with Blaine and can't help being distracted (read: turned on) by Blaine's arms as he works out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Away With Me

They are lying curled around each other in bed after the alarm has rung, trying to persuade their bodies to abandon the warmth of the blankets and the other’s skin and get dressed, when Kurt tips his head backwards on Blaine’s chest and asks, “Do you mind if I come with you today? To the gym.”

Blaine strokes his hand over the small of Kurt’s back. “Course you can. I can’t stop you, can I?”

“I’d understand if you didn’t want me there, though,” Kurt replies, and Blaine feels his shrug. “It’s nice to have some things separate.”

“I don’t mind you coming with me,” Blaine says. “You’re cute when you wear sweats, and you never do unless you’re running.”

Kurt blows a raspberry against Blaine’s skin. “You know I don’t like them. And I wore them last time we were both off work and you made me watch all the Bourne films.” He wriggles uncomfortably and Blaine can imagine how his nose must be scrunched up in distaste.

“We were having a lazy day; you can’t be lazy in jeans as tight as yours.”

“Really now?” Kurt smirks up at Blaine playfully. “Last night, I got the impression that you liked my jeans very much indeed. But I can always get looser ones if you’re not happy with them.” This comment catalyses Blaine into movement. He flips them over, pressing Kurt down into the mattress.

“If you buy different jeans,” he says seriously, “I’m never baking you those white chocolate and raspberry cookies you like. Ever.”

“But Blaine!” Kurt protests. “You promised, remember?”

Blaine shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t get new jeans, then,” he says, then sits up. “Come on. If we don’t get up now we never will, and I want my fiancé to come to the gym with me.”

*

“You just going to go for a run?” Blaine asks, stretching his arms above his head.

Kurt nods. “I’d like to try the rowing machine, but I’m actually a little scared. It seems like there’s way too much that can go wrong.”

“It’s not too bad. You can watch me, if you like,” Blaine offers.

The idea appeals to Kurt, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. “Okay, then. But if I fall over I’m blaming you.”

“I shall try very hard not to distract you. But I can’t help my natural charm.” Blaine smiles winningly and preens a little, and Kurt shoves his shoulder.

“Go demonstrate if you’re gonna,” he says. “I need to work off the cheesecake we ate for dinner yesterday.”

“Oh, I thought we took care of that last night…”

Kurt shoves Blaine harder, sending him stumbling towards the rowing machines, laughing, as Kurt steps onto the nearest treadmill and starts it up. He begins slowly, gradually increasing the speed and gradient until his heart and lungs are working hard and the muscles of his legs are burning pleasantly under the skin.

Fifteen minutes in, and he feels as if he has atoned sufficiently for the slice (or two…and a half) of cheesecake that he ate last night, so he lowers the speed and allows his attention to wander to where Blaine is still going strong on the rowing machine.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

Kurt has always found Blaine especially sexy after he’s been working out, droplets of moisture running along his defined arms and toned chest, his hair messy and tousled enough that Kurt’s fingers itch to curl into it. This though…this is ridiculous. Kurt feels something familiar and heavy settle in his stomach as he watches the muscles of Blaine’s arms flex rhythmically in time with his movements…backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards – it is so repetitive it is almost hypnotic, and Kurt finds himself very glad indeed that he is turned away from Blaine, who would doubtless tease him mercilessly, facing nothing but a bare, white wall and rows of unused weights and medicine balls. And he definitely isn’t moving any time soon.

*

Kurt doesn’t think it can get worse.

It can.

From the rowing machine, Blaine has moved onto push ups. On the mat  _right in front of Kurt_. He can’t possibly avoid watching Blaine’s arms or the muscles of his back that ripple with every movement, and he’s having a hard time hiding how turned on he is. He’s been half-hard for almost thirty minutes now, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

The last straw comes when Blaine picks up the heaviest medicine ball and lifts it slowly above his head, glancing at Kurt as he does so (almost as if he’s doing it on purpose, the bastard). Kurt switches off the treadmill and gets out of there as quickly as he possibly can.

*

God only knows how he manages it, but Kurt doesn’t jump Blaine’s bones until they’re back at their apartment, when he pushes Blaine up against the door the second it’s closed and kisses him hard. Blaine seems shocked, but kisses back as eagerly as he usually does, one hand cupping Kurt’s face.

Kurt kisses deeper, harder, grinding his hips down against Blaine’s; Blaine pulls back, looking confused.

“Kurt…? What?”

“Do you mind?” Kurt chokes out.

“No,” Blaine says. “Just…what brought this on?”

“Like you don’t know.”

Blaine smirks at that, clearly realising that his little game at the gym had the intended effect.

“So fucking hot, Blaine…Please?”

Blaine groans and scoops Kurt up in his arms, muscles working under clear, tanned skin and making Kurt dizzy with want. “Bedroom?”

“No,” Kurt says breathlessly. “Here.”

Blaine’s forehead crumples. “Here?”

“Wall,” is all Kurt says before leaning forward to mouth along Blaine’s neck and jaw.

“Sure?”

Kurt growls and kisses Blaine again, even harder than before. It is rough and sloppy, equal parts teeth and tongue, and Blaine slams Kurt against the wall by the front door. By some miracle that neither of them understands (not that they question it), they manage to get naked without falling over into a heap on the living room floor. The last time they tried this, they were much less successful, limbs flailing everywhere; even Kurt didn’t manage to be as graceful as usual, though they _were_  drunk, which explained the uncharacteristic lack of coordination.

Kurt eagerly sucks Blaine’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and never once breaking eye contact. He can see Blaine’s cheeks flushing as his cock gets impossibly harder, and he gives another strong suck, pulling out all the stops. Call it payback, if you like, of the most mutually beneficial and least vindictive kind ever imagined.

Blaine pulls his fingers from Kurt’s mouth with a soft moan, and Kurt wraps his legs around Blaine’s waist to hold himself upright as Blaine reaches his hand down to trace wet fingers against Kurt’s entrance.

“C’mon, Blaine, please,” Kurt whines, squeezing his legs tighter. Blaine takes the hint and slips one finger in, all the way up to the third knuckle. Kurt gasps at the burn, familiar but intensified. It’s the lack of lube, he knows, but he loves it. He wants it hard this time, and he rocks his hips back onto Blaine’s finger, begging for more.

Despite Kurt’s whining and moaning, Blaine takes the time to make sure he is stretched, with one finger, then two and three, before licking broad and wet and hot across his palm and wrapping it around his cock. They should probably have stopped by now, relocated to the bedroom where they have that mostly-full bottle of lube they bought on Friday, but that would mean stopping what they’re doing. And that’s not happening. They’ve done it like this before, and it was far from ideal – too rough and dry, but that’s just how Kurt wants it. He wants to feel every movement, right down the bone, tingling in his toes.

Blaine hoists Kurt up higher against the wall as he lines himself up with Kurt’s entrance and presses inside him. He tries to wait, to give Kurt a chance to adjust, but Kurt just digs his heels into Blaine’s ass and pushes him forward.

“Harder, Blaine,  _please_.”

Blaine can’t help but comply with Kurt’s request, his thrusts messy and sloppy but hard against Kurt’s prostate, and Kurt is about twice as vocal as he usually is, fingers tugging roughly at Blaine’s loose curls.

“God, Blaine, please. Harder harder harder.”

Blaine doesn’t think it’s actually possible for him to thrust into Kurt any harder, and a small part of his brain is worried about hurting Kurt, but he tries anyway. He seems to succeed, too, as Kurt cries out sharply.

Blaine feels the sharp tug in his stomach that signals his impending orgasm and wraps a hand around Kurt’s erection, stroking it in time with his stuttering hips. Kurt writhes against the wall as he spills hot and wet over Blaine’s hand, arching his back and moaning loudly.

The rhythmic clenching of Kurt’s hole around him tips Blaine over the edge as well, and his knees buckle as he comes, sending him sliding to the floor in a messy pile along with Kurt.

“And…h-how was that?” Kurt asks breathlessly, still curled around Blaine.

Blaine just shoot him an “Are you really asking me that?”sort of a look.

“Don’t be an ass,” Kurt groans. “I kinda jumped you; I wanted to make sure it was OK.”

“Kurt, that will  _always_ be OK.” Blaine pauses, assessing various body parts. “I think we need to shower again.”

“The water-conserving kind of shower?”

“Definitely.”

*

Kurt wakes up around midnight to find Blaine using him as a pillow. He smiles fondly at his fiancé as he slips carefully out from underneath him and slides out of bed. He is going to fetch a glass of water when the t-shirt Blaine was wearing this morning to the gym catches his eye, lying strewn across the floor next to the laundry hamper. Blaine’s aim is not exactly the best.

Rather than wander naked around the apartment (it’s cold, after all), Kurt slips the shirt on over his head before he leaves for the kitchen.

Blaine is awake by the time Kurt returns, curled in a ball under the blankets and blinking sleepily at him.

“Where did you go?”

“Just for some water,” Kurt says, climbing back into bed and snuggling up against Blaine’s side.

“Oh. You’re wearing my shirt.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I like it when you wear my clothes.”

Kurt tips his head to one side as he looks at Blaine. “Is this a hint?”

Blaine shrugs. “We could  _try_  for round three,” he says.

“Persuade me.”


End file.
